


I have missed the sounds you make

by Codango



Series: Sitting in the street [9]
Category: Free!
Genre: Dirty Talk, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Pillow Talk, Sex Talk, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have been a tease since I first saw you in high school,” Makoto growled. He rolled over so he could finally look down at this long, dark-haired piece of gorgeousness in his bed. He let his gaze travel slowly over Sousuke’s bare chest. “Strutting around with those shoulders.” Makoto kissed them in turn. “And these abs.” He trailed kisses down Sousuke’s stomach, eliciting a long, slow moan. “And… why the hell are your pants still on?”</p><p>“I don’t… I don’t strut,” Sousuke breathed. “And if you want the pants off, you take them off.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I have missed the sounds you make

**Author's Note:**

> The title should leave little doubt as to the point of this chapter. Enjoy.

“You. Have a cat?”

Makoto paused in the midst of yanking his shirt over his head. Who had time for buttons? “Yes,” he confirmed, voice muffled. He pulled the fabric away to see his black-and-white kitten in the doorway to his small kitchen. “Say hello, Kingyo.”

Standing behind him, Sousuke kissed his bare shoulder. “Is it friendly?”

Makoto closed his eyes, held his shirt to his bare chest. “Mm. Depends. You like cats? She can tell.”

Sousuke refocused his attention on the nape of Makoto’s neck, then between his shoulder blades. Makoto bit his lip to keep his breathing even as the wet warmth traveled over his skin. “Dunno,” Sousuke murmured. “Never really been around cats.” His hands were testing the span of Makoto’s biceps — _glad I haven’t missed too many days at the gym._

Makoto didn’t think too much too often about his body, but it certainly seemed to have captured Sousuke’s interest. As soon as Makoto had successfully unlocked his apartment, Sousuke had shrugged out of his leather jacket, relocked the door from the inside, and backed Makoto up against a wall.

“What do you want, Makoto?” he’d whispered into his mouth. “Tell me. Anything.” Sousuke ran gentle fingers over Makoto’s cheekbones, down his throat, over his shoulders, kneading the thick muscle below his neck.

 _What do I want?_ Makoto’s imagination had exploded with the possibilities. “Um. I want…”

Sousuke ran his hands down Makoto’s flannel sleeves. Found the cuffs and slipped his fingers underneath.

“I… I want…”

Sousuke took Makoto’s shirt collar in his mouth and nibbled at the fabric right next to his skin.

“Guh. I want this damn shirt off.”

And now, with Sousuke lavishing attention on his naked back, Makoto clutched said damn shirt to his chest. “What, _hhhh_ , what were we talking about?”

Sousuke chuckled, a deep, exciting rumble. “Your cat.” He ran his hands down to the waistband of Makoto’s jeans, found the elastic of his boxer briefs.

“ _Ah_. Why on earth were we talking about that?” Makoto shivered.

“We were debating whether or not it could come in the bedroom with us.” Sousuke reached around him and tugged the shirt from Makoto’s clenched hands. “Give me that, you’re going to rip it.”

Makoto turned around to eye the taller man. “We were not discussing that. Because of course she is.”

But Sousuke wasn’t listening anymore. He crossed his arms and scanned Makoto’s torso. “Damn. I thought you were hot in college. The fuck did I know?” He pressed a finger to a mark on Makoto’s lower rib. “Wait.” Makoto bit his lip — _fuck, he’s close_. “What’s all this? You didn’t have these before.”

Makoto looked down at his stomach. Burns. Scars. Fresh scratches. A bruise or two. He frowned. His legs probably looked worse. “Um. Oh. Forgot about… all that.” He looked at Sousuke, bent at the waist to study the patterned skin. “Ha, I never think about them. I guess?”

Sousuke didn’t say anything.  

Makoto frowned. _Seriously?_ “I… if it’s a problem, I can put my shirt —”

“Makoto.” Sousuke straightened. “You’re never allowed to wear shirts again.”

Makoto’s eyes went wide. “Wh- well. _Well_. Um. _Okay_ , but let’s open negotiations on _your_ shirts then.”

Sousuke immediately reached behind his head to pull his long-sleeved T-shirt off. The motion was over before Makoto had a chance to realize his mouth was open again. “Let’s just say no shirts in the apartment. Problem solved.”

Makoto gaped. It was as though someone had taken the Sousuke from his wet dreams, added more tone, flawless skin, and sculpted muscle than was decent, and said, “Here, Tachibana, see if you can find something to do with this, can’t you?”

He only realized he was touching that incredible chest when Sousuke sucked in a sharp breath. His shoulders had always been works of art, but to touch them again... _Oh god_. Makoto swept his hands down Sousuke’s solid pectorals, carefully feathering over his nipples and grinning in satisfaction at the very perfect groan that elicited.

“Did — did I say no shirts in the apartment?” Sousuke let his forehead fall to Makoto’s shoulder. “How about no pants in the bedroom. Can we work with that?”

“We’re not in the bedroom.” Makoto grinned at Sousuke’s exasperated sigh. The sound lowered into a rumble deep in Sousuke’s chest when Makoto’s fingers found and slipped under an elastic waistband.

“We should fix that.” Sousuke bit down on Makoto’s collarbone, his hands lowering to his ass. He rocked his hips into Makoto’s.

“ _AaAAHh_.” Makoto arched his back, but Sousuke held him close.

“Mmmm.” Sousuke planted a kiss on his sternum. “I have missed the sounds you make.” He ran a hand between their bare chests, over Makoto’s abs, and grabbed the waist of his jeans. “More. I want to hear more.”

Makoto reached for Sousuke’s belt, his breaths shallow and fast. Whipped the belt through the loops of those canvas pants and threw it on the floor before he walked past him toward the bedroom. “Then you’ll have to try harder.”

He was just stepping out of his jeans when he heard Sousuke laugh right behind him. “ _Hey!_ ” he bitched when Sousuke shoved him unceremoniously onto the bed. Makoto felt the mattress give underneath him as Sousuke hovered over his back.

“When…” Sousuke planted a kiss on Makoto’s lower spine. “Did you…” A kiss on his waist. “Learn to be such…” A very unexpected and gasp-inducing nibble on the ear. “A fucking tease.”

“ _Haaaaahhhnnh._ ” Makoto wanted to cover his ear ( _well, not really_ ), but Sousuke had both his wrists captured on either side of the bed. “Sousuke. You have shitty ideas about what a tease looks like.”

“Why, Makoto,” Sousuke purred from above. “Are you saying I’m a tease?”

Makoto reached back with a leg, locked his knee around Sousuke’s, and grabbed his forearm. It took a little bit of effort, but he managed to flip them over so he landed on his back against Sousuke’s stomach.

“ _Oooffffhhh_ ,” Sousuke grunted.

“You have been a tease since I first saw you in high school,” Makoto growled. He rolled over so he could finally look down at this long, dark-haired piece of gorgeousness in his bed. He let his gaze travel slowly over Sousuke’s bare chest. “Strutting around with those shoulders.” Makoto kissed them in turn. “And these abs.” He trailed kisses down Sousuke’s stomach, eliciting a long, slow moan. “And… why the hell are your pants still on?”

“I don’t… I don’t strut,” Sousuke breathed. “And if you want the pants off, you take them off.”

“You.” Makoto unbuttoned Sousuke’s pants. “Strut. A guy could shatter rocks on your self-confidence.” He slid the black canvas down past Sousuke’s knees. “You started flirting with me the second I walked in the police station.”

Sousuke cradled his head in his arms, and Makoto stared at the impressive display of chest and shoulders and biceps. “Couldn’t be helped,” he said, far too breezily for a man in just his boxer briefs. “You’re delicious.”

Makoto flushed to his hairline. “ _Delicious?_ ”

“Particularly when you have soot all over your face.” Sousuke sighed dramatically. “I thought about taking you to the bathroom. You know, to clean your face.”

Makoto sat back on his heels, flustered. _He’s… so much better at this than I am._ His crush of nearly eight years was all but naked underneath him in his bedroom, lavishing compliments on him. It was like being in a grocery aisle with a thousand varieties of peanut butter. _I mean, where do you start?_

“Hey.” Sousuke sat up. “Where did aggressive Makoto go?” He grinned. “I kind of liked him.”

Makoto looked down at his hands. “I… I’m not. Normally. You just…” He raised his eyes to Sousuke, hoping his blush had faded a bit. “I can’t keep up with you.” He laughed. “And I can’t believe… you’re…” he paused at the look on Sousuke’s face.

Sousuke raised a hand to cup Makoto’s jaw. He smiled, and Makoto lost his breath at the sweetness of it. “I like shy Makoto too.” He rubbed a thumb over his cheekbone. Pulled him in for a kiss. “You blew me away the first time you kissed me, you know that?” Another sweet kiss on the corner of Makoto’s mouth, and Makoto closed his eyes with a sigh. “I was so surprised. _Tachibana is kissing me,_ I thought.”

Sousuke’s lips trailed down Makoto’s neck. “ _Why is he kissing me?_ I wondered. Does he know I’ve been sneaking looks at him during practice?”

Makoto arched his neck and thrilled at Sousuke’s tongue. “You did not. You don’t have to lie.”

Sousuke laughed against his skin. “Who’s lying? I’ve never seen anyone look as good as you in competition legskins.” His hands fell to Makoto’s ass, fingers exploring every curve, and Makoto felt his blood follow every touch. “The number of times I had to swim an extra lap so Rin wouldn’t see how hard I was…”

Makoto gave in to what his hands were itching to do. _God, he’s hard_ , and Sousuke groaned loudly into his chest as Makoto explored the front of those black boxer briefs. “What if I’d come up to you in the locker room then?” Makoto whispered. “What if I’d done this to you in the shower one day?”

“It’s… god, it’s a good thing… you didn’t.” Sousuke’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I can’t… I had to be alone when I… because _AAAHHHHNNN_.”

Makoto blinked at the roar that tore through his ears. He’d slipped Sousuke’s waistband down over his dick, and the accompanying noise was — unexpected. He bit back a grin. _Hm. This’ll be… fun._ “You had to be alone when you… what?” he teased.

Sousuke fell back onto the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes. His mouth was open, and Makoto swallowed hard. “When… when I… _aahhhhh._ ”

Sousuke’s size was impressive, Makoto reflected. His fingers traced the shaft, tested the hardness of the swollen tip, and Sousuke was falling _apart_. “Yamazaki Sousuke.” Makoto leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Did you — touch yourself when you were thinking about me?” He gave a particularly aggressive pull.

“ _HHHAAAAhhhhgg_.” The volume was really something, Makoto thought. He wondered if his neighbors would think it was him making all this noise, and his face nearly caught on fire.

“I.. I can’t help it.” Sousuke peeked at him under his arm, and Makoto about died from the cuteness.

Makoto laughed. “Can’t help what? That you think of me? Or…” he lowered himself so Sousuke’s dick touched his abs. “Or you can’t help how fucking loud you are?”

Sousuke shut his eyes tightly and let loose another groan. “Don’t… pretend that you’re not getting turned on from it.” He reached down, completely ignoring any foreplay through fabric, and yanked Makoto’s underwear down over his ass.

It was sudden and shocking and _cold_ and hot all at once, and Makoto collapsed on Sousuke’s chest with a tiny mewling sound. Sousuke laughed victoriously. “Bastard. You’re as hard as I am, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Yeah,” Makoto panted. “What the absolute fuck are you waiting for?”

Sousuke raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you are cumming _first_ because of that, boy.”

Makoto looked thoughtfully at the headboard behind Sousuke. “I feel like this is where I should say, ‘Please make me.’”

“You fucker.” Sousuke shoved at his chest. “Sit up.”

Grinning, Makoto sat back on his heels straddling Sousuke’s hips. “What—” but Sousuke tugged him forward till Makoto was sitting on his chest.

 _Um. What’s… uh. It’s… it’s right in his… face._ He flushed. _I… I wonder if my face is as red as my dick. WHAT a thing to think, Makoto! Just…_ and then Sousuke kissed his hard tip, and Makoto’s mind went white.

Sousuke’s hands gripped Makoto’s thighs almost to the point of pain, but Makoto couldn’t feel anything but the fire in his core. Sousuke kissed and licked and… _aaahHHHggghh_ … sucked, and Makoto arched his back, trying not to thrust into that mouth. He was losing control, the heat on his cock too much, Sousuke’s lips too perfect.

Makoto reached back to grasp Sousuke’s hips, giving himself enough strength to say, “S-Sousuke! You’d… you should… I’m… _wait!_ ”

Sousuke slid out from underneath him, and Makoto didn’t protest when he kissed him full and long as he finished him with a stroke. “ _AaahhhHHHHHHHHuuuhhh_ ,” Makoto cried into his mouth. Sousuke hugged him to his chest as Makoto convulsed into every last pleasure.

“Ohhhhh, Makoto.” Sousuke buried his face in the heat of Makoto’s neck. “ _How_ are you… so beautiful.”

Makoto stroked Sousuke’s hair, grateful he was holding him upright. The warmth gradually left him, and his senses came back to the rest of his body. _Hm._ Makoto let his hand drift down Sousuke’s neck, over a shoulder, and down a muscled rib cage.

Sousuke gasped into his neck as Makoto traced his hips, then found his balls with his fingers. They were swollen, warm to the touch, and Makoto loved their weight in his hand. “M-Makoto.” Sousuke’s voice was ragged, and he spread his knees in a depraved movement.

Makoto shifted to let Sousuke relax onto him, both of them upright on their knees on the bed. Makoto stroked him from his balls to his head, letting the wetness coat his hand to slick the entire shaft.

Sousuke shivered against him, one arm draped over Makoto’s back, the other gripping his shoulder hard enough to bruise. Makoto kissed his shoulder, his neck, and Sousuke groaned loudly.

“Louder,” Makoto whispered. He tugged, and Sousuke pulled his hips back to increase the gentle pressure.

“I… I… make me,” Sousuke breathed.

“Louder,” Makoto commanded, his hand firm, squeezing more precum and drawing it back down the underside of Sousuke’s dick.

Sousuke panted but didn’t moan, his forehead pressed hard into Makoto’s shoulder. He shook his head, and Makoto laughed. “I bet if we were in the shower at Samezuka Academy,” he began softly, “and we’d just finished practice…”

His hand went up and down smoothly in time with his words. Sousuke swallowed a whimper.

“I’d be at the opposite side of the showers. And this time, I’d think, _what the heck_ , and I’d take off my swimsuit.”

Sousuke bit his collarbone.

“And I’d feel your eyes on me. Because you know you’d be looking.” Makoto tightened his grip on the word _know_ , and Sousuke jerked.

“There wouldn’t be anyone else in the showers. Just you and me. And I’d catch you watching me.” He ran a hand over Sousuke’s ass. “And I’d say, ‘Sousuke...’”

Sousuke gave a soft moan.

“‘Sousuke, I have to touch you. Sousuke, you’re beautiful, and I need to touch you.’ But then I’d say…” Makoto stroked down hard and back and held. “I’d say, ‘but you have to be quiet, or the others will hear.’”

Sousuke tugged against the pull, testing, and groaned.

“Louder.”

“I… you said no,” Sousuke whispered.

“Louder, Sousuke.”

Makoto reached behind Sousuke, behind that gorgeously hard ass, and below and between those thighs, and gently stroked the soft underskin of his balls.

“UuuhhhhhHHHHHHHHAAAUUUGH.”

Makoto closed his eyes, feeling Sousuke’s tremor as it traveled through his body. He came in his hand, and Makoto let him buck into his grip, now loose, now tender.

Strength came back into Sousuke’s arms, and he held Makoto to him so tightly that a lesser man might have protested. Pulled him down on top of him, collapsed onto a pillow.

“So _you’re_ a dick.” Sousuke’s voice was throaty, and Makoto grinned. “And I’m staying here tonight.”

Makoto nuzzled Sousuke’s still-heaving chest. “Shit.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be for Day 6: Touch for SouMako week. Wah wah, life happened, but here you go! Just a day late is fine, right?
> 
> [@codango](http://codango.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr
> 
> [Marcella Christie](http://marcellachristie.com/) for my alter ego


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